


Hell for Leather

by MidnightOilPalm



Category: Christian Bible, Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Daddy Issues, Dancing, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Grooming, Loss of Virginity, Making Out, Manipulation, Mind Games, Oral Sex, Power Imbalance, Pseudo-Incest, Sex in a Car, Supernatural Elements, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightOilPalm/pseuds/MidnightOilPalm
Summary: Chelsea is a young woman who hates, and I mean HATES, her mom’s new boyfriend. Nick - he’s flashy, he’s prideful, and he’s obviously just using her mom. But nobody else sees that. And yet, things are not always as they seem, as Nick and Chelsea soon learn from a night out on the town. Will they see past their bristling differences to finally bond? Or will the man who’s hot as hell feel the sting of a cold shoulder?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Satan/Original female character, The Devil/Original Female Character
Kudos: 5





	Hell for Leather

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Satan (God, how I wish I did XD) but the rest of these characters are mine for the most part. Enjoy at your own discretion. >:)

“Come on, Chelsea, it’s just for one afternoon!”   
I stared at her, my jaw almost in the basement.   
“I am NOT hanging out with your boyfriend! Mom, he’s so weird and creepy, and he never buttons his shirt up all the way, have you noticed that?” 

Mom shook her head and sighed, still chopping carrots for the night’s dinner. 

“Now, Chelsea, you know it’s not like that. Nick might be your stepfather soon, and, well, we just thought it would be a good idea for you two to have some bonding time.” 

Yuck, this soon? They’ve barely been dating a month! 

“There is NO way I am bonding with that-that PEACOCK! You can’t make me like him!” 

Mom smiled at me sadly.   
“I know it hasn’t been easy for you since, you know, the divorce. But do you think it was easy for me? Do you think your...father getting custody of your brother was something I liked? No, Chelsea, I didn’t like that at all, but I’ve struggled through, and I’ve managed to find a life I can tolerate. You should, too.” 

Yeah, right. My life ended when we moved into this fucking apartment. 

I closed my eyes and sighed with frustration.   
“Fine.”   
“Great!” Mom grinned, “He should be here any minute, go get ready!” 

I stomped to the bathroom, practicing my best death stare in the mirror while I brushed my teeth. I carelessly tossed on a pair of ratty jeans and some baggy shirt I found stuffed towards the back of the closet. The outfit certainly didn’t look good, but that was the least of my worries. 

“You look nice.” Mom fibbed as I returned to the living room.   
“Thanks.” I said, teeth gritted.   
There was awkward silence for a moment longer before she seemed to remember something.   
“Oh, by the way, Nick is taking you to the mall.”   
“Really?” I replied, incredulous. “That’s the best he could come up with?”   
“It’ll be fun, Chelsea! He’s trying. Plus, they opened that new reptarium - herpetarium - whatever it is, right in the middle of the mall. You should check it out, with how much you love snakes!” 

I sighed, but didn’t have much time to respond. The asthmatic purring of a vintage coupe drove my blood to a near boil. The bastard was here. 

Shit.

“He’s here!” Mom exclaimed in the most obnoxious voice I had ever heard. She flung open the door, and the sunlight off of that goddamned car almost blinded me. It was a violent cherry red and shaped like a candy bar on wheels. Nick was hard to see in the angry crimson he shrouded himself in, but it wasn’t like I couldn’t guess what he looked like. Black hair, sunglasses, perfectly trimmed goatee. Tanned skin blossomed with patches of swirling hair. A shirt that revealed too much and a fur wrap much too warm for the season. A godawful amount of jewelry. A smile that could cut diamonds. He was damn near perfect and he wanted everyone to know it. 

“Hi there!” Nick called in his sing-song tone, much too light for the quality of his voice, scratchy and deep to match his stench of old cigarettes and God knows what else. Even perfect men have their vices.   
“Ready to go?” He called, the question infuriatingly rhetorical. 

I extended him no niceties as I stomped down the front stairs to the passenger door of the car in silence. The thing was shit to get into, my legs being too long to climb in comfortably, but fortunately there was more room once I was seated. I grabbed the solid metal handle of the door and slammed it behind me with an angry bang. 

“Woah, careful there.” Nick murmured, with just a twinge of malice to his words. 

From the stoop, Mom waved frantically in that concerned, too-frail grandmother sort of way, the kind where she bounced on her tip toes and craned her neck like an anxious chicken. 

“Be careful out there! Take care of each other!” Her voice rang down the sidewalk. 

“We will! Buh-bye!” Nick responded in a nauseatingly similar pitch, assumed only by ignorant lovers and cunning manipulators. My money was on the latter. 

Nick pushed something here and kicked something there, which sent the car lurching across the pavement. 

“Buckle up...” He hissed through gritted teeth.

I was already regretting this.

Thankfully, after the initial spasm of difficulty, the car did seem to get better acquainted with the street, and didn’t try to chip my teeth on the dashboard again. 

“Hey, kitten.” Nick said warmly, attempting to make small talk. “How’ve ya been?” 

Not this “kitten” shit again! 

“My name is Chelsea.” I parried his consuming warmth with a muttered chill of my own. 

“Jeez, just tryin’ to be friendly, Chelsea.” He dragged out the word in the way that always pissed me off, dividing it into ‘shell-sea’, as if that were the funniest joke in the world. “How’s your mom?”   
“I don’t know, you’re the one who’s dating her, why don’t you ask?” I rolled my eyes, trying not to sound as terrible as I felt. Nick seemed not to notice, and instead changed the subject.

“Did she tell you where we’re goin’?”   
“The mall?”  
“Yup.”  
“She said we should check out the new herpetarium...” I suggested, trying to sound enthusiastic, “Snake place?” 

Nick grinned and spun the wheel wildly around a corner, his teeth somehow too white in comparison to the void of his sunglassses.   
“Well,” he said, “I don’t know what herpes has to do with snakes, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.” 

Is he joking? Or is he really just THAT stupid? 

As if reading my thoughts, Nick chuckled calmly. “That was a joke, by the way, kitten.”  
Frustrated with just too much of Nick and fearing the afternoon ahead, I just sighed and leaned my head against the window. As much as I hated the car, there was something about the cool, rattling glass and soft, leather seats warmed by sunlight that calmed me. Against my better judgment, I soon found myself nodding off into a very comfy nap. 

“Kitten?”   
I grunted and nestled further against the soft warmth.   
“Are we pullin’ a sleepin’ beauty today?”   
A hand tapped me gently on the shoulder.   
I suddenly realized where I was and jolted, almost slamming against the roof on my way up.   
Something lukewarm and wet lined the edge of my mouth. 

Drool. And it’s on the window! 

Horrified, I did my best to gingerly clean my face and the glass, without much success. 

Nick chuckled and shook his head.   
“If that schmutz doesn’t come off my car, I’m breakin’ your piggy bank.”   
He pointed at me accusingly. 

Fuck. Me. Is he serious right now? 

I looked outside. What had been a fantastically sunny day was threatening to become a really dreary, wet evening. Just my luck. I hate storms. 

“Welp, kitten, we’re here,” said Nick, tossing his wrap into the back seat, “Might as well make the most of it, huh?” 

I clambered out of the old constrictor, the blood in my legs having long since gone on vacation. I winced with discomfort as something crackled around my kneecaps.

So much for being young and spry.

Nick, on the other hand, seemed to be having no trouble at all, and was striding across the parking lot with a spring in his step. Despite his legs being even longer than mine, the extended ride apparently had no effect on him. Lucky bastard. 

“Nick...” I huffed. “Wait UP!” 

Even though my lungs were burning and I was being outpaced by a forty-something smoker, I still found the time to reminisce on the mall. In the old days, before my family fell to shit, we would all go there together and catch a movie or, during special events, even get snow cones from one of the food trucks that sometimes came through. But that was a long time ago, and much had changed. Now, things were different. 

Now I’m just here with this asshole-

As soon as the thought had entered my mind, several things happened in such rapid succession that it’s pointless trying to tell them apart.   
I finally caught up with Nick, who had reduced his speed somewhat to make allowance for me. When I reached him, a car going a little too fast drove by, almost too close for comfort. Nick, however, seemed to somehow sense the potential danger before I had even registered it, and pulled me out of harm’s way with a quick, if a bit brutal, jerk to the bicep. 

“Watch it, asshole!” He yelled after the driver retreating in the distance, and, to my surprise, put his hands on my shoulders and gave me a look of concern more genuine than anything he had expressed until that point. 

“Christ almighty, kitten! You gotta be more careful!” He stared at me with such intensity in his eerily pale, blue eyes that I thought I might shatter on the spot. But then his face softened again. “Ah, jeez! You okay?” 

I checked myself for any sudden injury or pain.  
“Yeah...Yeah, I think I’m fine- just kind of shaken up I guess.”   
“No wonder, kid! Look, your mom wants you returned safely, maybe you should walk closer to me.” 

Nick draped an arm over my shoulder and pulled me nearer. He didn’t actually smell so bad. Underneath all the lingering smoke, there was an interesting mixed scent that was somehow sweet, salty, and musky all at once...still, this was going to be a very long afternoon. 

“Wait here, kitten. I gotta make a trip to the Little Bastards’ room.”   
“What? Seriously?!”   
“Hey, sorry, when you get to be my age, you just can’t hold it so long anymore. I’ll just be a minute.” 

There I was. Stranded. In a fucking food court. So much for returning me safely. I moved closer to a store front, some sort of bakery. The waiting wasn’t too bad, as the warm scents of treats in the oven mostly masked the stench wafting from the nearby bathrooms. Unfortunately, the delicious smells just served to remind me of how hungry I was and how stupid I had been for not bringing any cash. More than anything, I just wanted a brownie. But perhaps this disappointment was a sign that the old days really HAD moved on...

Unless...

Nick strode over to where I stood, and coincidentally remarked, “Ready to move on?” 

I hesitated a moment, giving one last glance at the celestial, perfectly textured, incredibly fragrant brownies, before answering with a half-hearted, “Yes.” 

As if I were large, black letter print on the other side of clean plate glass, Nick could immediately read me, with scary accuracy. 

“What is it, kid?”  
“Oh, it’s nothing!”   
“C’mon, kitten. What is it you want?” He said it so commandingly that I felt compelled, absolutely required, to reply, as though reality itself depended on my answer. I faked a cough to ease the tension that only ended up making my throat feel drier than ever.   
“Huh? Oh...I just-just wanted a brownie...” I said, more to my shoes than Nick.  
“Weed or no weed?” Nick asked, deadpan. 

Oh God, what have I done? Why did I ask for a brownie? Why not a cupcake? What if he has some supplier he’s going to risk exposing for my sake when I don’t even do drugs? What if he goes to jail and Mom blames me? Oh, SHIT! What if he thinks I’m some kind of addict, and he turns ME over to the police? I can’t survive prison, I can barely ask for a fucking BROWNIE! What if he gets me a weed brownie but he doesn’t know I don’t do drugs, but I eat it anyway to be nice, and then I get hooked on it? What if the regular brownie has WALNUTS, which I am fatally allergic to, and he wastes his money on something I can’t even eat? What if I accidentally EAT- 

Seeing my bewildered expression, or perhaps sensing the frantic thoughts within, Nick doubled over with heavy, rumbling laughter that drew a little too much attention.   
“It’s okay, kitten, I’m just pullin’ your leg. I know drugs aren’t your thing.” 

My thing? What does that mean? 

Before I could think or ask anything, Nick was already at the counter, money in hand.   
“Two brownies, please.” 

He sauntered back triumphantly, a smirk on his face and brownies held victoriously. 

“See? That’s not so hard, now is it?” 

We began to walk and eat our brownies in order to reach the herpetarium sooner. 

“Thanks for buying these,” I said, bashfully, “And for saving my butt from that car in the parking lot. I would’ve been a flapjack on the pavement if it wasn’t for you.”   
Nick shoved the rest of his brownie, a large chunk of chocolate, into his mouth and grinned.   
“No problem,” he said, muffled, “My treat.” 

We started laughing at his mouthful of food, which made him look rather much like an overgrown chipmunk. As Nick laughed, though, something very strange happened. He laughed, yes, but he also chewed and swallowed the rest of his food, near simultaneously, with no difficulty whatsoever. I gaped at him, completely stunned. 

“Doesn’t that...hurt?”   
“Nope.” He smiled, cheerfully.   
“But, like, won’t you choke or something?”  
“Nah, never have, probably never will.” He shrugged, then added, “No gag reflex, either...”   
Sensing too much behind those words made the exchange more awkward, but thankfully we had arrived at the herpetarium. Frankly, it was absolutely unmistakable.  
The entrance was flanked by two giant plaster pillars, painted to look like castle towers and decorated with winding plastic snakes wrapping around and around. Above the doorframe, in overtly gothic, red letters, a sign read, “SHIBBOLETH’S SNAKEFEST”. 

Some place.

I was hesitant to enter, since everything looked so obviously touristy, but Nick had no such qualms, seeing that he practically pranced into the place. Begrudgingly, I followed him, the air growing ten degrees cooler than the already chilly mall. I took that as an ill omen, in addition to all the empty space, which I examined absentmindedly. I was about to say something when I heard an earsplitting squeal.

Was that NICK? 

“SAMMY!”

I turned to locate the source of the sound, and, sure enough, it was Nick. He was hopping from foot to foot like a man scalded, and talking to a heavily muscled, tattooed, and pierced cashier. 

“Hey, Nick! How’ve you been, man?”   
“Oh, you know, Sam, usual.” He said, nonchalantly.  
“Good, good. Is this the girl you’ve been texting me about, Nick? She seems a little young, even for you...”   
Nick furrowed his brow, not comprehending what had been said, but looked where Sammy was gazing. Suddenly, it clicked.  
“Oh, JESUS! SAMMY, no, I’m datin’ her MOTHER!” Nick laughed heavily. “She’s not that young, anyway...started college a couple months ago...” 

Why would he mention that, unless-

“CHELSEA!” Nick yelled, interrupting my train of thought. “There’s someone over here you GOTTA meet!” 

Reluctantly, I made my way over.   
“Sammy, this is Chelsea. Chelsea, this is Sammy.” 

The cashier extended his large, warm hand, which I shook with my clammy, smaller one that hardly took up the space of his palm.   
“So...” I said, awkwardly, “You two know each other?  
Sammy smiled and chuckled.   
“Oh yeah, Nick and I go way back. But what are you two doing here?” 

Nick grinned like an ill-mannered boy in a candy store.   
“We wanted to see the snakes!” 

Sammy grinned back.   
“Oh, sure! Totally! Heck, I’m the only one working right now, I could probably get you guys in for free, as a favor to an old friend.” 

Feeling guilty enough for all that people were doing for me, I prepared to interject, but Nick spoke first. 

“Hey, that’d be great! Thanks, Sammy!” 

Welp. 

Sammy shifted away from the counter and moved towards a door leading to an apparent backroom. I was a little frightened. If it was as cold in there as it was out here, I doubted that anything could be alive and active inside. Sensing my shivers of fear and cold, Nick began to fuss over me. 

“Kitten? You cold? You look cold?”

Betrayed only by the slight chatter in my teeth, I said, “No.”   
Nick paid me no mind.  
“Ah, I should’ve brought my wrap in! Didn’t think I would need it. Hopefully you don’t freeze to death.” 

Before I could offer any rebuttal, Nick pulled me next to him, this time placing his hand on my hip. He was surprisingly strong despite his narrower width. I wasn’t sure if I had imagined it or not, but, although Nick’s skin was as cold as mine, it felt as though some great source of heat was welling up under his fingertips, warming me until I no longer shivered. He was still too concerned, however, to let me go. As we stepped into the main room of the herpetarium, I barely noticed his touch. 

Wow.

It was as though we had moved into some remote, gentle rainforest. The entire room was filled with dewy plants of all shapes and sizes, from minute ferns to towering, vine-clad trees. The temperature had near instantly changed as soon as the door was closed behind us, shifting inexplicably from a bracing chill to a lulling, soupy heat. Splitting one side of wilderness from another, an earthen path muffled our footsteps below, while the mall’s skylights breathed golden sunlight over everything, creating a shimmering world I didn’t know could ever exist indoors. The real wonder, though, was not the flora, but the fauna. 

Near every rock, outcrop, shrub, or hillock, something moved and lived. Snakes, lizards, turtles, even some reptiles I didn’t recognize, all of them carrying on as if in a routine of daily life. The oddest part was, though they were active and so different from one another, none of the animals fought or hurt each other. The immediate explanation would be some sort of sedative, and yet their movements were too lively for any conventional tranquilizer. It seemed a paradise for anything with scales or shell. 

“How do you keep them so calm?” I asked Sammy, eyeing a pair of snakes I knew to be venomous in particular.   
“Well,” Sammy said, while calmly lifting a snake, “Let’s just say that we’re...very good at communicating with our reptiles here.” 

He showed me the snake he had lifted and I was instantly overwhelmed with awe. It was unlike anything I had ever seen, covered with shining, purple scales. 

“Her name is Lilith.” said Sammy. “Do you want to hold her?”   
I breathed with ragged excitement.   
“Yeah.” I realized Nick was still attached to my hip. “Nick, could you-“   
Suddenly, he noticed the situation, and gave a startled, “Oh, sure! Sorry...” before releasing me. 

We spent at least an hour observing and interacting with the various reptiles, discussing what they ate and where they came from. The sky outside was turning from a fitful grey-blue to an even more ominous, clouded, rosy color when we readied to leave. 

“Well, Sammy,” Nick said, satisfied, “I think we’ve seen everything there is to see here. Guess we should leave you to close up.”   
Sammy shut the backroom door and locked it.   
“Hey, it was good seeing you, Nick!” Sammy smiled. “Feel free to stop by any time.”   
Nick returned the cheerful expression.  
“Thanks, man.”   
Then, Sammy turned and comically pointed at me.   
“Don’t let Old Nick give you too much trouble, now.”   
I chuckled.  
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”   
“Hey, if anyone is causin’ trouble, it’s her!” Nick interjected.   
The three of us laughed. 

Nick and I walked the long floor of the mall to the parking lot. By now, most of the shoppers were gone and wouldn’t be back until whatever movie was playing had its evening show. Our footsteps echoed slightly with the high ceilings and tiles beneath. A plaintive,   
regretful throb hit my heartstrings in the silence between us. 

“Hey, Nick?”   
“Yeah, kitten?”   
“I’m sorry about always giving you such a hard time, it’s just-“  
“You feel like I’m tryin’ to replace your dad?” 

How in the HELL did he know that?

“How...how did you know about my dad?”   
“Your mom told me.” 

A sudden heat flushed my face. 

Of course. Mom. I’d almost forgotten. 

“Well...” I said, “You’re kind of right. I just feel like this whole thing is so...”  
“Sudden?”   
“Yeah...”  
“Most of life’s changes are, kid. That’s the hell of it, really. But I totally understand where you’re comin’ from.”   
“...Did your parents get divorced, too?”   
Nick chuckled.   
“Let’s just say, my father and I never really got along...”   
“Oh. Sounds like me and my mom.”   
Nick looked at me with a wise compassion.   
“Hey, you say that now, but in a few years? You might just be sorry you didn’t spend more time with her.”   
“I don’t know...”  
“If I’m wrong,” Nick grinned, “Then you can always piss on her grave.”   
I laughed, half shocked.  
“That’s not a very nice thing to say about your girlfriend!”   
Nick winked.  
“What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her, now can it?” 

Jesus, he’s got beautiful eyes - 

I could hardly believe what I was thinking. A nice thought? A compliment? For Nick? It seemed impossible, and yet, it was true. He did have beautiful eyes. 

Christ! He’s going to be your stepdad, Chelsea-  
Yeah, but he’ll never be my dad, not really. He’s more like-  
A friend?   
Funny. I’ve never had many of those...

My inner debate would’ve continued had I not almost slammed into a high, potted palm. 

“Jesus, Chelsea! Walk much?” Nick laughed. 

He said my name so naturally...

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, haha, I guess I was distracted...” 

We had now retraced our steps back to the giant entrance of the mall. It seemed to be ready to rain outside. 

Great.

“Nick,” I ventured, “It looks kind of bad out there.”   
“Kitten, what’s the matter? Scared to get your feet wet?” Nick chuckled. “Hopefully it will keep away for a while.” 

He stopped for a moment, then started with the jolt of a remembered idea. 

“Oh! I meant to ask you...” He paused, sounding reserved.

That’s not like Nick...

“Do you think your mom would mind if I took you out for a nice dinner before bringin’ you home? Not that her food isn’t nice,” Nick added hastily, “but I just figured we could mark the occasion, eat somewhere special, you know?” 

“Uh...” I froze. On one hand, I knew Mom was already working on some sort of pot roast, as she had been before I left the house. On the other hand, I was finally getting along with Nick, and I actually almost considered him...a friend. Wasn’t that the whole point of the venture? 

What’ve you got to lose? What’s the worst that could happen?

“I’m sure she’d be fine with it...if she calls, we can just tell her what’s up...” I said, hesitantly. 

“Great!” Nick smiled. “Easier to ask forgiveness than permission, right?” 

Not from where I’m standing. 

As we approached the car, I had a sudden realization. 

“Wait! I don’t have anything to wear, especially if we’re going somewhere nice...” I felt some considerable degree of disappointment, to my own surprise. But Nick had the fix. 

“Oh, that’s simple! I have some things in the trunk you could wear.” 

What in the hell does he keep in this car? 

I didn’t have to wonder long, as Nick popped open the back and began to rifle through it. Finally, he pulled out something that, at first, almost looked like a giant blade of grass. I had to stifle a chuckle at that. 

“Here. How’s this?” 

When Nick held the item up, I no longer felt like laughing. It was a floor-length, gauzy sort of dress, colored by a blend of green and white and spangled with small sequins, which made it strangely reminiscent of a typical mermaid. It was so sudden and beautiful that I felt tears well up in my eyes, even as someone whose entire wardrobe consisted of faded jeans and baggy shirts. As Nick added a pair of shimmering silver shoes to the mix, I had one question. 

“Are-are you sure this will fit me?”   
Nick smiled at me gently.  
“I hope so, I did buy it in your size.” 

HOW DOES HE KNOW MY-

“Your mom told me.” He answered the obvious question with a shake of his head.   
“How much did this cost?”   
“Hey, no,” Nick chastised, “That’s for me to know, and you to never, ever find out.”   
“Nick!”   
“Don’t worry, kitten. With the amount I spend on clothing for myself, it could be considered a charitable donation to buy somethin’ for you.” 

I spent the next minute wondering what source of income Nick could have that would possibly fund his evident taste for luxury. I didn’t have long to think on it, however, as the next outfit Nick removed from the trunk was even more ostentatious than the last. It appeared to be a velvet dinner jacket, but more finely tailored than any I had ever seen. The jacket was a deep, pomegranate red, a much darker color than the car, and subtly accented with strips of some black material that resembled leather, bracing the collar, pockets, and other minor areas. As someone very invested in textures, some part of me wanted to run my hands all over it. 

“Now, what do you think of this?” Nick said, breaking my concentration and holding the jacket up to his torso. In comic fashion, he arched one eyebrow and grinned.   
I laughed.  
“It’s nice,” I said, “But I’m not sure how it would look with the dress.”   
Nick’s face sunk into a mock pout.   
“Well, I thought it was rather stylish. On me, at least.” 

He’s so sarcastic!

“Hang on,” I had a thought, one I didn’t really want to voice. “Where am I going to...change? Should I just do it as soon as we get...wherever we’re going, or?”   
Nick paused in a moment of thoughtful silence before piping up.  
“Oh, you can just change in the back of the car!”

What?!

Despite my internal screams of protest, I just responded with a meek, “Okay...?”   
Entering the car wasn’t so hard now that I had already figured out how to maneuver it, and I easily slid into the back, noticing the long bench seat taking up half the rear. Nick entered on the driver’s side.  
I held the dress to start getting ready, then hesitated.   
“Don’t look...” I said.   
Nick blinked, chuckled with realization, and shifted the rearview mirror away from my makeshift dressing room. 

Did he seem...disappointed? 

The gorgeous green dress went on easily enough, and lovingly hugged my best features. It was as though the thing had been custom fitted with my measurements and assets. I shook off the thought as coincidence. However, the shoes were a contradiction to that theory, since they were also perfectly fit to my unusual foot shape - wider in the toes and narrow in the heel. 

Jesus, what kind of info did Mom give him?!

By the time I returned to the front passenger seat, Nick was already dressed to the nines. He looked...very nice. While I was considering this, I realized I had yet to zip up my dress. I cleared my throat awkwardly. 

“Hey, uh, Nick? Could you get the zipper on this thing? It’s-it’s in the back, yknow, so I can’t reach, and-“   
“Sure, kitten.”   
Funny, I don’t mind being called that so much anymore...

Facing the window, I tried to still my nervous breathing as Nick slid the zipper up my back. His hands were a steady pressure, first at the base of my spine and then gliding up towards my shoulder blades.   
“Hang on, kitten. Damn thing...don’t know why I got one with such a long track.” He muttered.   
As he worked on pulling the zipper up, his hand accidentally brushed my exposed back on a few occasions. Unaccustomed to being touched at all, I couldn’t help but to shiver slightly. I hoped he wouldn’t notice, and tried to stay deathly still. 

Stop. Shaking. 

“Sorry, kitten...” Nick huffed. “There.” 

His breathing almost sounded quicker. 

The ride to the restaurant was ridiculously uneventful and silent in the early evening. I spent so much time in quiet anxiety that I almost didn’t realize where we ended up, and part of me didn’t care. 

God, I bet I made that so awkward! It’s not my fault, I didn’t mean to shiver...

Nick was more soundless than I.   
It wasn’t until the stray beams of a neon sign landed across my distracted eyes that I even realized where we were. 

“Oh my God...you didn’t!”   
Belzoni’s.   
“I did.” Nick grinned. It was good to see him smile again.   
But there was more on my mind. Like the price.   
“Nick, this place is so expensive! And the reservations are, like, a month’s wait! How on Earth-“   
Nick seemed very pleased with himself as he examined his nails and smirked.   
“Oh, I’m sure it will be fine. I’m very good friends with the owner.”   
How does he do it?

I examined the facade of the building in front of us. White adobe, clay roof tiles that looked like overlapping half-cups. Restaurant name in large, color-changing lights. It was the real deal, alright. The priciest place in town. I had only been there once before, long ago, on my parents’ anniversary...I had almost forgotten. I thought about my parents’ poor relationship, and how happy Mom now seemed with Nick. 

“I’ll go in and check out seating, kitten. Don’t go anywhere.” 

He really was a swell guy, once you got past the sugar-and-salt exterior. And he was helping Mom forget all the pain.   
Maybe he can help me forget, too...

A sudden noise at the driver’s window startled me. Nick popped open the door.   
“Sorry, forgot my wallet. Let’s go.” 

God, he’s gotta stop doing that! It’s bound to give me a panic attack one of these days. 

Almost naturally, Nick and I linked arms as he led me into the restaurant. After all, the parking lot was often very full and he probably remembered it better than I did. Still, a part of me was convinced it was strange behavior. 

We entered the contemporary-looking glass doors, a little bell jingling in our wake. As soon as we had gone in, a man who was walking from the back of the restaurant and appeared to be the owner spotted Nick. His eyes grew wide and his mouth opened and shifted into a wide grin. He ran over as fast as his exhausted, stocky body would carry him. 

“Hey, Nick!” He shouted, earning a few curious glances from other patrons, some almost seeming to recognize Nick from somewhere.   
“Michael!” Nick grinned, embracing the man, leaning over him slightly. “How ya been, buddy? How’s the wife and kids?”   
Michael smiled brightly, good humor beaming in his face.   
“Oh, they’re great, Nick! Just great! Hey, thanks for bailing us out a few years back, business is booming! I can never thank you enough! What do I owe you?”   
Nick laughed.  
He helped out Belzoni’s?   
“You don’t owe me anything, Michael. Just came here to grab some grub, yknow?”   
Michael paused, eyebrows raised with jollity.   
“Oh, is this girl your date?”   
Wait, oh no-  
Nick smiled and laughed again.   
“Yknow, you’re the second guy to ask that today. No, I wouldn’t call her my ‘date’, since I’m datin’ her mom. But she is with me, yeah.”   
Michael smiled.   
“Oh, okay. You guys want some free dinner? My treat!”  
Once again, Nick responded before I could decline.   
“Sure, Michael, if it’s no trouble.”   
“Trouble? Trouble?! Nick, you saved this restaurant! One free meal a year is hardly trouble when you’re a V.I.P.!” 

Without another word, Michael shuffled us over to a booth by the far wall, next to a beautiful, bubbling fountain made of overflowing pots splashing over a base of assorted stones. Lit by the low, purple-blue glow of the lights in the restaurant, it took on a deep, oceanic aesthetic.   
This place really is gorgeous...  
“I’ll make sure the best waiter gets sent over, right away!” Michael chirped before leaving us to sit and talk. 

“Nick?” I said, half curious and half suspicious, “How do you know so many people?”   
Is he in the mafia or something? Should I let mom know?  
“Haha, well, it’s nothin’ illegal, kitten.” Nick replied, seeing the concern on my face. “I just get around a lot, let’s say. I’ve had a lot of time to make friends.” 

Great, yeah, thanks. Because that totally clears it up. 

I had more questions, but by that time the waiter had arrived and asked for our drink orders. He seemed to assume that Nick wanted champagne, but Nick corrected him with a snicker and some excuse about being the designated driver. The waiter shrugged and poured two glasses of sparkling water instead. Part of me suspected it was on my account, being under the drinking age.   
Yet another good thing ruined by yours truly...

“Kitten!” Nick called out suddenly. “You’ve gotta try their fettuccine Alfredo! It’s to die for! Well, not literally, but I helped give insight on the recipe, so I hope it’s up to scratch, yeah?” He chuckled loudly.   
Oh, so he knows how to cook now too, huh? I’ll believe it when I taste it. No way this one guy can be such a renaissance man...right?   
“Okay...” 

As suggested, we both ordered the fettuccine Alfredo. It arrived hot and smelled like a whole block of cheese had been melted in a boiling pot. And, as Nick had stated, it was honestly the best thing I had ever tasted.   
“Jesus Christ!” I said, eyes wide with surprise.   
“No, he didn’t design it, I did.” Nick smiled and I laughed in response. 

As time passed, besides the dish tasting indescribably good, like the essence of fettuccine Alfredo summed up on a plate, I also realized another incredible quality of the preparation. Usually, something this cheesy wouldn’t agree with me. But I was surprised. 

“Nick,” I said, in awe, “I can eat this!”  
He raised an eyebrow.  
“Yeah, Chelsea, that is what food is for.”  
“No, I mean, it’s not upsetting my stomach or anything! I need you to, like, either give me the recipe or a lifetime supply, because this is the first time I’ve ever been able to eat pasta like this without disappointment or pain...”   
Nick guffawed.   
“Well, if your mom decides to keep me long term, we’ll see about gettin’ you that lifetime supply.” 

That’s right...Mom...I wonder if she’s worried about us, wondering where we are?

I didn’t have the time to linger on this thought.   
My eyes locked on a point halfway across the restaurant.

“Kitten? What’s wrong?”

Oh, for the love of God! 

By some cosmic coincidence, my father had decided to come to this restaurant, on this very evening.   
And he wasn’t alone. 

“Nick?” I whispered, “You see that man over there? Blue shirt, balding, glasses?”   
Nick furrowed his brows.   
“You mean the one sittin’ next to the supermodel?”   
I sighed.   
“Yeah, that one.”  
“What about him?”  
“That’s my dad and his new girlfriend...”

Nick blinked, registering the information.   
Then, he laughed far too loudly for such a quiet restaurant.   
“THAT? That’s your FATHER? What, is he rich or somethin’?”   
“No, actually. I don’t know what he’s doing here, he’s in debt up to his forehead.”  
Nick scoffed.  
“Well, beggin’ your pardon, but he doesn’t seem to have anything to draw in a woman like that. And before you say, ‘Oh, Nick! You mustn’t say such ugly things!’, I mean that in the most confused way possible. I mean, beyond his appearance, he just obviously has no bearin’. The shirt? A cheap imitation brand. You can tell it from here, just by the way it wrinkles. And he keeps his wallet on top of his lap. Who does that? People who have nothin’ to lose. He also has no table manners, as evidenced from the heavy slouch and unclean nails. I’ve got no idea what she sees in him.” 

Jesus, he’s got the eyesight of a hawk. 

Unfortunately, the couple in question were starting to look in our direction.  
“Nick, I can’t let him see me! It would be really awkward, and he doesn’t even know who you are!” I whispered desperately.   
“Relax, I got this.” Nick smiled.

Oh, good.   
“How do you feel about dancin’?” 

Oh, shit. 

Before I knew it, I was being led hand-first onto the darkened dance floor. It was lucky the place was so dim, as it provided perfect shadow to cover us from view. Still, I had a feeling that my poor dancing would draw unwanted attention, along with Nick’s gaudy suit. 

“Nick, can’t we just go to the car?” I glanced around, my eyes buzzing in their sockets.   
“C’mon, kitten, it’ll be fun! Trust me.” 

Do I trust him?  
Probably not...  
Still...if Nick dances as well as he dresses, my dad might see him and get jealous.  
That’s gotta make up for, like, at least half of what that bastard’s done to this family...

In that moment, my mind was made up.   
“Alright...” 

When Nick was on the floor, he almost became an entirely different creature. The band in the corner began to work out a smooth song, fit for a concentrated dance. In turn, Nick slid like a skater onto the polished flooring, his black shoes dazzling under patches of lowlight. There was something otherworldly, mesmerizing in it, like the sheen of rare minerals suddenly unearthed in a geode form. I was pulled from my concentration by Nick guiding me close to him, moving me nearer and nearer until I could feel his breath on my face. Some part of me seemed to tune in to his frequency, completely involuntarily and with no great effort on my part, thank God. Even though I had no clue how to dance, especially not in the style he seemed to be a proponent of, I began to magically fit into some groove, like a figurine on a music box. I hardly knew what, or if, I was dancing, only that I was close to him and he was close to me, and we were very warm. 

“Hey, I know this song...” Nick mumbled through wet gauze a thousand lifetimes away.   
I used my remaining brainpower to give a little listen to the music, and realized, with both pride and horror, that I, too, recognized the song. Disconnected but somehow poignant words began to prickle in my head.

Sinatra?  
Dad played this one for us.   
Awkward as hell. 

Wait. 

“...Mind if I make love to you?” Nick sighed against my ear.  
“Those better just be song lyrics...” I mumbled. 

Suddenly, the lights were up, the dance was over, and we were leaving the restaurant without me fully knowing how I had gotten to that point. Funny how these things work. Nick and I re-entered the car, the air having grown slightly colder since we had arrived. Autumn was coming and it was evident. 

We turned out onto the main road, tires rolling gently over asphalt. There was a light breeze that carried a sprinkling moisture to it, the storm from earlier threatening to lash out with a vengeance. Nick flipped on the radio and sought a station to even out the rain’s growing hostilities. 

“Ah, that’s a good one...” Nick’s lips curled with warmth.

“I’ve been alive forever,   
And I wrote the very first song...” 

“Really?” I said, with mock condescension, “Barry Manilow?”   
“Hey.” He scowled playfully, “He’s a man after my own heart.”   
“Pfft, yeah, whatever, Grandma.”   
We chuckled, clearly giddy with exhaustion. 

Suddenly, I was burdened with the need to thank Nick.   
“Hey, Nick?”   
“Yeah, kitten?”   
“I just wanted to say...thanks for everything. The mall, the food, the dancing. Making my mom happy...you never had to do any of that, but you did anyway. So thank you.”   
Nick smiled at me affectionately, his goatee framing a cheerful mouth.   
“Happy to do it, Chelsea. I wouldn’t trade a moment of it for the world.” 

I hope we have more time together. It’d be cool to have him stick around. 

All of a sudden, we seemed to be entering an awful area of storms. Rain thwacked the windshield, which battled with wobbling wipers, and wind threatened to shift the car off the road. 

“Damn, kitten, hang on...we’ll be out of this soon.” 

Unfortunately, as we progressed, the storm only had a worse effect on the car. It fought valiantly, but somewhere by the roadside, a few miles later, it coughed, rumbled, and promptly refused to budge. 

“Shit, shit, shit...” Nick chanted under his breath, hissing angrily.

I wonder if Mom knows he uses that kind of language...

While Nick was tinkering with the car, I glanced out of the window, gazing at one of the few streetlights around. Much to my joy, it seemed the rain was reducing its attack, and would soon pass us by with a fair amount of waiting and luck. Naturally, I was elated to share this information. 

“Hey, Nick!” I yelped, “I think the storm’s passing on!”   
Nick gasped after accidentally nicking his finger on some jutting metal, shaking his hand to distract from the pain.  
“No, it’s not movin’.” He said, absentmindedly.   
“Uh, yeah, it clearly-“ 

Suddenly, as if caused by provoking an unseen god of storms or some natural, petty rain-beast, the sky broke open once more, a deluge assaulting our fragile position by the road. 

That’s weird, it’s almost as if he’s-

“Huh, I could’ve sworn it was clearing out...” I mumbled. 

Nick continued fidgeting with various odds and ends that might have put the car out of working order. I sat, puzzling at the shifting nature of the storm. Although I knew weather patterns could be weird, this seemed...uncanny. Again, the clouds began to let up, the raindrops less pelting and more dripping. 

Controlling it? Nah, couldn’t be...

“Maybe the storm will go for good this time?” I offered gently.  
“I don’t think so.” Nick retorted. 

And, once again, the heavens brought forth their worst right above us, as if on cue. As if on...command. 

Right?!

“Oh my GOD!” I shouted accusingly. “You’re making this happen!”   
Nick sat up with such a startled demeanor that he slammed his head.   
“Ow, Christ! Sorry, what?”   
“You’re making the storm stay! Jesus, I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner!”  
“Chelsea, you’re tired, you’re stressed, you’re imaginin’ things. I get the same way. Just lie down in the back of the car or somethin’. You’ll feel better, I promise.” 

“No! Am I going crazy? Is this actually happening?” I asked. My mind raced with hysteric connections.   
“Is what happenin’?” Nick urged.   
“You-are you controlling the weather?”   
“No.”   
“Don’t lie! I mean, if you’re not, I know I’m crazy, so-so don’t lie!”   
“I’m not lyin’,” Nick paused, “And I think you need sleep, kitten.”   
“Am-am I going crazy? All day, have I just been crazy?!” I lamented.   
“Nah, kitten, you’re not crazy. You’re just like a little cuckoo bird that only goes ‘Ook-ook’.” 

I laughed. As much as I hated it, I laughed. Everything about this man was confusing. Infuriating. Contradictory. Attractive and repulsive. Lavish and vulgar. Familial and strange. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to run from him or to him. And so I laughed. I got out of the car, and I laughed in the rain. I laughed until I walked a few feet, took out my phone, and contacted the only person I needed to talk to in this moment.  
I called Mom.  
Ring-ring. Ring-ring. Ring-ring.   
A click.  
“Hello? Chelsea? Where are you? Are you and Nicky alright?”  
Nicky? Jesus fucking Christ, she’s in deep.

I collected myself.  
Breathe.  
“Yeah, Mom, it’s Chelsea, Nick and I are fine. We got caught in a storm, but we’re safe. Nick’s trying to get the car to start-“  
“Oh no! What happened?”  
“Nothing, Mom, it’s probably just the cold. Look, Mom, we’ll be home soon, I promise. But I need to tell you, firstly, I love you very much-“  
“Aww, honey, I love you too!”   
“Thank you, Mom, that really means the world to me right now, but please let me finish talking. It’s important.”  
“Oh?”  
“Look, Mom. Nick is a dangerous man. I think he might be some kind of-“   
“What was that, honey? I can’t-“  
Click.  
Call dropped.  
No signal.  
God damn it! 

I turned on my heel to find Nick, leaning against the hood of the car in his shirtsleeves and slacks, arms folded across his chest, skin drenched in rain. His face bore an expression of unspeakable fury mixed with mundane amusement. It was the scariest thing I had ever seen. I tried to steel my expression to match, but it was no use.   
Nick called through the rain.

“Get in the car now, Chelsea.”   
“No!” I said, voice shivering more than my body in the rain. It was no use, the man was much older, taller, and stronger than me. But I wasn’t going to go out without a fight.   
“You think you know what I am, kitten? You wanna know?”   
I thought for a moment.   
“Well, I sure as hell would like to know who’s been smooth talking my mother!”   
Nick laughed, a steely, harsh sound that was anything but genuine. It wasn’t funny.   
“Get in the car and I’ll tell you.”   
“Oh yeah, I bet Bundy used that exact line!”   
Nick scoffed in his throat.  
“Is that what you think I am, Chelsea? Just another fuckin’ serial killer?”   
“Well, aren’t you? Taking me to a deserted road after dark, using the power of suggestion to gaslight me! That’s pretty close to serial killer behavior, buddy!”   
The laugh again.  
“Kid, you haven’t even scratched the surface. Get in the car now.”   
Uh oh.   
His voice was dark and authoritative. I felt compelled to obey. 

Hating myself, I made my way back to the passenger seat, the rain making my teeth jackhammer against each other in my skull. Not caring about Nick and his stupid fucking car, I slammed the door. If he wanted to kill me, he was getting shit in return.   
I didn’t have much time to think on it as Nick slid into the driver’s seat. Silently, he scowled at me. Then, he reached towards the backseat for...a towel.   
Phew.   
He roughly dried his head with it, still glaring, and handed it to me.   
“I’m not-“ I said, protesting against using the towel of my murderer.   
“You really don’t have any damn clue who I am, do you?” He interrupted me.  
Rude.   
“No.” I said honestly, though the fear of death gave the word a tremble, paired with my still sopping and frozen body.   
Then, Nick did something unexpected.  
He leaned his head back and groaned, almost as if lamenting a mistake.  
“Christ, and I thought I was makin’ it obvious.” He smirked.   
What?  
“Your mom told me you were raised religious, I thought you’d get it.”   
“What’s that supposed to mean?”   
“C’mon, Chelsea. Who do you know who dresses sharp, talks smooth, and is generally associated with snakes?”   
I was confused and frightened. I just wanted to go home.  
“I don’t know,” I snapped, “A magician? A salesman? How should I know who you are?!”   
He stared at me with a mix of disbelief and annoyance.   
“I’m Satan, Chelsea.” 

Oh, naturally!

“Haha.” I frowned. “Yeah, right.”   
“No, I’m absolutely serious. Go ahead. Think of somethin’. Anything.”   
“Okay...?”

Minnows and-  
“Cheese sauce.” 

What? How did he...? Fish paste and-  
“Apricots.”   
“What the...no, okay, that could just be fancy tricks!”   
“What, you want more proof? Whaddya want the weather to be, Chelsea? Snowy?”

Suddenly, it was.

“It was already cold-“  
“Hailstorm?”

The snow turned to sleet and then hail.   
“And now, back to rain?”

The hail became slush and then rain.   
I furrowed my brow with shock and frustration.

“Okay, well, I thought only God could read minds and control the weather, right? How does this prove you’re Satan?”   
“‘Satan, who is the god of this world, has blinded the minds of those who don’t believe.’ God of this world, baby. Prince of the Air. At least, for now. Means I can do whatever the fuck I want until judgment day. I have other tricks, if you’re still not impressed.” 

He sure is prideful enough to be Satan.

“Alright,” I said, still confused, “so you’re Satan. Why come here? Why feed and fool and try to impress me? What do you want?”   
My soul?   
He brayed out a laugh.  
“No, Chelsea, I already got that a long time ago. I’m just here lookin’ for what anyone wants, I guess.”   
“And what’s that? Money? Food? A vacation?”   
“Really, kitten? You still can’t figure it out? Do I have to spell it out for you?” Now, he was just plain condescending.   
But he had a look in his eye...a look that hardly ever meant more than one thing in this context.   
And it was aimed at me.

Lust?  
“No.” I retorted.  
“Yes. C’mon, kitten, it’s been...at least a month, I’m goin’ through such a bad dry spell.”  
“No, gross! I’m not going to fuck the Devil!”  
And yet-  
“Oh, come on, Chelsea, please? Not even a little?”   
“No, what, are you begging me for sex?”   
“It’s not beggin’ if it’s somethin’ you can get anyway.”   
“So why not fuck somebody else? You’re too old-“   
He laughed at me.  
“Really, kitten? That’s your excuse? Jesus, you’ve been thinkin’ all day about how spry I am. Plus, I think I look pretty good for bein’, oh, a few millennia old?” 

He glided a hand down his body as though he were a salesman exhibiting a car. And, God damn it, he wasn’t wrong about himself. He met all expectations and beyond for something so ancient, not to mention biologically outpacing most men of the modern era with ease. Satan was, in fact, fit. 

“I-“ I sighed through my teeth, “You-you’re with my mom, I could never hurt her like this-“   
“Well, ‘what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her’, remember?”   
“Jesus Christ, have you just been using her to get to me this whole time?!”   
Nick scoffed, exaggerating his offense.

“Look, you may be a ‘Leviticus 18:17’ sort of person, but I ain’t, kitten. If I see somethin’ I like, I try to get it. If I see somethin’ else I like, I try to get that as well. But I always say please.” 

He winked and I realized how absurd this whole situation was.

“I-God, I shouldn’t even consider this. It’s wrong on so many levels I can’t even begin to describe.”   
“But that’s what makes it fun, right?” 

He said it with such conviction that I could now clearly understand why humanity had first fallen.   
“Anyway,” Nick said, “You don’t have to decide now, kitten. Just...soon would be nice, yeah?”   
He laughed.   
“For now, just dry off.” 

Suddenly, he had picked up the towel and was comically drying me.   
“Hey-“ I said, trying not to laugh, “Stop-that tickles!”   
“Exactly!” He said evilly.   
We fell back into our respective seats, and I laughed until my belly was sore and hated it. We caught our breath with panting smiles, and I accidentally made eye contact with Nick. He was gazing at me with some unreadable emotion - something that was like desire and affection and loathing all at once. It was intense and I wanted to avoid it. I tried to beat a conversation out of my voice box to ease the tension.

“I don’t know-“ I said, sighing and trying to come up with some excuse, better than claiming to not want what was being offered. “I just...”

There was just such an awkward energy between us, something that needed to be dealt with, though I didn’t want to. It was weird to think about, and yet, if I was honest, it felt good to think about it. Exciting, even. Forbidden. He was handsome as sin and hellishly good at alibis. I couldn’t possibly be blamed for this.

What harm could it possibly do...?   
What have I got to lose?   
I hope she forgives me.  
There’s plenty enough of the man to go around, after all...  
As long as there’s sin...

I nibbled my lip anxiously.  
Who would know? 

Suddenly, I was shifting over the console, face flushed and breathing increased. It was now or never. Nick - Satan, whoever - he looked at me with satisfaction and longing, and I might’ve returned the expression. 

He was touching my chin, long, calloused fingers exploring my face, the both of us inching closer together as best we could. Until we breathed the same air.

God, he’s got beautiful eyes.

Our lips met. Surprisingly gentle, shockingly sweet. His lips were soft and shapely, marble statue given flesh. It had been so long since I had kissed someone, even familially. It was nice, a strange blend of dry skin and wet mouth. Gross on paper, but intimate in reality-two mouths separated by a thousand generations having a physical conversation. Weird. But good. He was better at it, of course. A tongue so adept at spilling honeyed lies was no worse at such sensual games. We blurred until our teeth and tongues and jaws became one, twisting and tugging and enjoying, he leading and I following. His hands wandered, slipping daintily from shoulders to clavicles and below. My hands wandered as well. Dancing, massaging, stroking. I was glad he hates buttoning his shirt the whole way. I was glad his chest was hairy, my fingers following the swirls. Pleased hums left us - that was it, us, not me or him but us - and slid past our ears only to be crushed by the wheeze of heavy rain. His nails, mildly like claws, tingled and prickled behind my ears and down my back. Hands front now, slipping down, down, down...there.   
“Jesus, Chelsea...” he rasped, “You’re drenched.”   
I was. Not the rain.   
“I-“ I panted, “I’ve been like this, ever since the day I met you. Ever since she brought you home like a lost dog.”   
His fingers swirled, exploring.  
“I hate you.”  
He looked at me, brow cocked in the manner that turned my spine to gunpowder.   
And I love you.  
Just like that. Two fingers in. Dancing, stroking. A waltz time. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three. He pushed in and I fell forward against his shoulder, clutching his shirt and breathing the smell of Nick. Of the Devil in man’s clothing. Why me? God, why me? In all of history, what made me so special? So unlucky? Why was Satan here, now, with me, fingers inside me, sighing against my ear from just holding me? Too early for love, too soon for that. And yet I felt it anyway. Not mortal love, though. No. Too naive, too base for this is that love. There is a kind of love only reserved for saints and angels - a euphoric, hopeful love of awe and fear, kneeled and singing praises. A love that trusts even without signs. What message was there in a rising love for the fallen? What hope was there in a love for the Devil?   
“But who prays for Satan?”   
Funny.   
Gasping, now, being struck internally. Over, over, over. Needing more. 

“Nick,” I panted, “Stop.”  
He did. Instantly.   
“What is it?”  
His voice was soft. Strained. Doe-eyed demon.   
“I...I need more.”   
“More?”  
“Yes.”  
More of you and me, more of us, more of the kind of thing we could only do here, now, this way or none at all.   
“Alright.” 

The seats lean forward in that car. I didn’t know before. The bench seat in back was a much easier location than the front. Smooth. Leather and velvet upholstery. Made for this. I could tell. Blot out thoughts of her. She isn’t here, she doesn’t know, only we know. It’s our secret. It’s our kind of night. 

Amazing amount of room in the back of his car. Room enough to squeeze in, kneel before him as he sits on the bench. Run my hands along his thighs. 

“Nick,” I said, hesitantly, “I’ve never...not with...”   
Words are so hard.   
“I know, Chelsea.” He said, “Just take your time. We’ve got all night. We’ll figure it out.”   
He was so calm, so kind, it was a wonder he was Satan at all. All I saw was a spirit of towering sadness, someone who had seen too much and been around too long. A monument of a past I had no idea of. Erect. The word fit him, in many senses. Body erect with stubborn pride. Life erect with the grave line of age. Of course, it would be ignorant to not mention that his cock was erect, as well. Some might think angels would have no need of such. Angels mightn’t; humans certainly do. 

I stroked him through his pants, hesitant, not wanting to do something wrong, not wanting to hurt him. For someone so strong, I treated him as though he were fragile porcelain, a doll. He was encouraging. 

“Yes, honey, just like that...just like that.” His chest rose and fell with the breath of one in ecstasy, head back and goatee jutting as provocatively as the thing under my hand. He was beautiful in the same way a rare sort of goat or stag is beautiful: defiant, powerful, sharp. It was an intoxicating kind of aura. “Just...like...that. You-you can be a bit firmer with it, Chelsea. I won’t break.” 

I followed his request, lightly holding, embracing still, not gripping tight. He had an odd shape, even from what I knew - his cock came to more of a point, less rounded at the head. Curiosity struck me and I knew I had to see it for myself, so I unzipped him, careful again. I was surprised to see he wore no underwear. 

“Only ever wear them on special occasions, and for...certain purposes.” He explained breathlessly, answering a question I hadn’t voiced. 

It was interesting. As hairy as some parts of him were, the hair on his torso tapered. Down, down to the stomach, fading out around the iliac furrow, the Adonis belt - he really was defined - until, arriving at the pubic area, the hair was gone. Not shaven. Gone. No follicles evident or present. Smooth as silk. I absentmindedly ran a hand around the area, taking in the softness. I wasn’t even that soft, and I shaved. Part of me wanted to nuzzle into the patch of skin, but decided that was too strange an urge. Plus, the real masterpiece was his penis. 

There was a strong human element, true, but, as I had sensed earlier, the tip was pointed. Not sharp, just more angular than what was expected. The strangest part was how it was structured. He was uncircumcised, and the shaft and foreskin of his penis were the same color as the rest of his skin - a natural tan. But, if you pulled back his foreskin, the more pointed, internal portion was an otherworldly, alluring golden color - literally golden, not just yellow tinted. The visual aspect alone coaxed me to continue stroking him, to see the strange shift in colors. His cock was of moderate size, somewhat veiny, not small but certainly not painfully large. A strange source of relief, given the fact that he was something supernatural. I was at the mercy of his celestial biology. 

“Like...what you see?” Nick grinned at me.   
“Yeah...” I said, softly, since I was still in awe. I couldn’t believe that I was here, to do this, with an angel - even a fallen one. 

“So-I guess I just...?” I said, feeling terribly self-conscious.   
“Just-just start out slowly, taste it, get a feel for it...” Nick smiled. “I’d show you myself, but with just us, that’d be a little difficult.”  
I huffed out a laugh.

Well, here goes nothing.   
I began gently, thinking of what would feel good, what I would want in a situation like this. No biting, if at all possible, that was for sure. His skin was so soft there. If I messed up...I didn’t want to think about it. Better to just stay safer than risk it. And so I mouthed his cock and licked it, making sure not to do anything too rough or painful. 

“Yeah...” Nick sighed.

At the same time, I was dreading a bit of what was ahead. Nick may have no gag reflex, but I was human. I was unlucky, and weak. He seemed to sense this anxiety. 

“Chelsea,” He said, “You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay?”  
I nodded, continuing to lick and kiss and stroke. He petted my hair as I worked, which almost drove my sensitive scalp insane, the gesture being so intimate and soft. I sighed as I pleasured him, slowly involving my mouth and tongue more. Finally, I risked it. I did my best to keep my teeth away, mouth opened just so, and I took him in.   
Nick groaned loudly and cradled the back of my head. 

The process wasn’t entirely impossible. It was certainly clumsy and I risked fucking it up several times, but I did get a bit more acclimated after a while. I couldn’t fit all of him without discomfort, so I didn’t force it. I licked and sucked what I could, slowly and then, at times, a little faster, when I felt more confident. I made sure to stroke him, not just his cock but his thighs, his belly, his chest. He responded well to that, fingers clutching my shirt and hair, and voice echoing my name in between pants and groans. That raspy voice was glorious when it was aroused, setting off firecrackers in the nerves along my backbone. I wondered just how much more turned on I could get when Nick put his hand on my cheek.   
“Chelsea,” he panted heavily, “You’ve done wonderful, honey. But let’s get to you now, yeah? I...I won’t last long if you keep doing that.” 

What a compliment...

Now, he kneeled on the floor, and directed me onto the bench seat. My heart was thrashing like a trapped fish in my chest, anticipating with wild beats what was to come. I already felt ridiculously aroused, underwear clinging in a way they had no right to, just from this alone. I had a feeling Nick could sense all of this, as he gazed up at me with a rather fiendish look. In a teasingly slow way, he pushed the bottom of my dress up, up, over my knees. Then, even slower, he hooked the hem of my underwear with his fingers and began to tug down. 

“Nick,” I whimpered, “Please.”   
He chuckled darkly, and, in one fell swoop, yanked my underwear the rest of the way down my legs. I gasped.   
“Spread your legs, honey.” He said, stroking my knee with a hand. I just had to obey. He pulled himself up, leaning closer. And then-

“OH FUCK!” I yelped. His face was buried between my legs, mouth lapping and burrowing and working with great ambition. Paired with a finger or two, his tongue, which I now noticed was pointed quite like his cock, lashed against and into me. As clumsy as I had been going down on him, he was that good with me. 

“Nick!” I half-laughed, half-moaned. “That’s not fair! I-I barely knew what to do with you, and you just-“   
He pulled away for a moment, consumed in his...work.  
“Hmmm, just the perks of bein’ immortal...” He growled sensuously. “Also, I should just let you know, I breathe for cosmetic purposes. I don’t actually need to. Just a fun fact.”   
With a crazed grin, he returned to what he had been doing, mouthing my cunt so well I had to hold his head with my hands to keep from flailing.   
“Ahhhh, fuuuuck, Niiiiiiick.” I sighed roughly as he massaged and licked and sucked. I could feel his goatee prickling against my wetness, the hairs just coarse enough to-  
“Ohhhhhhhhhh, fuccccck.” I moaned, hips moving on their own accord as a pleasurable sort of shock zipped through my body, warming it and leaving me with spasms in my toes. Nick rose up and kissed me, and I could taste myself on him. I didn’t mind. It was the least I could do. If he could stand the taste of me, well, so could I. 

“Alright, Chelsea...are you ready to do the next best thing?” He asked hoarsely, climbing up on the long bench seat beside me.   
I thought for a moment.   
“Holy fuck, yes.” I laughed, still shuddering slightly.   
“Okay, then.” Nick smiled. “Let’s begin.”   
He shifted in front of me, I on my back and he kneeling on the seat. He pulled me closer to him, calculating the alignment of our hips. And then he entered me. Tantalizingly slow.   
“Ahhh, Nick...” I moaned, in time with a groan of his. The point of his cock had a splitting effect unlike anything I had ever experienced. It wasn’t painful, as I was very well prepared, but it had an unusual, weighted pressure, like a ship cutting through water. It was inarguably amazing, raised to hit more places than most men could probably reach. In addition, Nick fucked as well as he danced. Which is to say, mindblowingly well. We started slow, but I was beyond certain that that was not going to be enough. 

“Nick,” I huffed, “Go...go faster.”   
“Ah, ha, yeah, I thought I should, too.”   
Soon, he was thrusting into me with a fairly good rhythm, and I did my best to keep up with him. The man’s stamina was ridiculous, hardly faltering or stuttering at any speed he undertook. He rocked his hips against me, cock thrusting against my most sensitive areas. While we fucked, Nick reached down and rubbed my clit, pairing the shocks produced externally with the ones internally in a way that was almost symphonic, and I groaned with every thrust.   
“Nick!”   
I tucked a leg behind his thigh and held onto his arm, grabbing on for the life of me. He moaned gutturally as he picked up speed, and, soon, he was driving himself into me quickly.   
I let out a rhythmic stream of curses as he powered against me, again and again, like a machine with only enough humanity to know how to make ruthless feel good. I gripped his arm and shut my eyes in response to the pleasure, hissing contentedly through my teeth. Nick leaned down and wetly kissed my neck, still pumping in and out of me. 

“Nick,” I whimpered, insides knitting ever more tightly against the intrusion of his cock, “I think I’m gonna...”  
“What? Gonna cum?” He teased.  
“Yes-“   
“Then fuckin’ do it.” 

What else could I do? I clutched him and yelled, winding my limbs closer against his as I cried his name and he continued to push me past my limit. I went limper, leaning back moreso on the seat, and, soon enough, he was groaning loudly and burying himself in me as far as he could go. He spilled in me warmly and collapsed beside me before pulling out. 

“Jesus,” He said, “That’s gonna be Hell for the leather.”   
A thought struck me.   
“Nick! We didn’t use-“   
Nick interrupted, laughing.   
What’s so funny? I could get-  
“Lucky for you, Chelsea, I’ve got control over that.”   
“What? I don’t understand-“   
“Come on, I wouldn’t be such a father of the good times if I couldn’t control when I got women pregnant. Then I’d just be a borin’, regular father.”   
We laughed. 

After we had gained a bit of strength, we used the towel from earlier to clean off a bit. Nick cradled me on the bench seat and I fell asleep in his arms. I could’ve sworn that, outside, the sky was beginning to clear...

I woke up, birds twittering annoyingly. I was warm, I didn’t want to be awake. I curled up against my blankets, suspiciously sturdy on this day...  
Wait...that’s not a blanket! 

I sat bolt upright, finally remembering where I was and what I had done. Nick was already awake, tracing circles on my back with his finger, which promptly ceased at my display of shock. 

“OH MY GOD-“ I shouted, trying to comprehend everything, “I HAD-“   
“Yep.” Nick said calmly.  
“WITH-“   
“Yes again.”   
“AND YOU’RE-“   
“Most definitely.”   
“Oh. My. God.” I said, letting it all sink in. I couldn’t believe that I, of all people, had had a passionate, wild night. With the Devil. It was too surreal.   
“Am...am I having a dream?” I asked.  
“Why?” Nick questioned, smirking, “Did you enjoy it?”  
“Y-yeah, I-I think so...I mean, I don’t regret it, but, wow...You probably have to deal with this a lot, don’t you?”   
“All the time.” Nick chuckled. “Some of them even start cryin’.”   
That made me think. 

“What...what are we going to tell Mom?”  
Nick shrugged.  
“I wasn’t gonna tell her anything if you weren’t. Might not go over too well, yeah?”   
I groaned and nodded.   
“God, I just...wow, what even?”   
“Don’t overthink it, kitten. Let’s just get you home, get you fed. Hell, maybe your mom will make me some breakfast, too, if she isn’t too suspicious.”   
He laughed.  
I had the strangest suspicion that this wasn’t the last time this would happen. 

We pulled up to the front of the house, making sure we were as tidy as people who had only been sleeping and not fucking wildly in the back of a car all night. We had also changed into our clothing from the day before, not wanting to arouse more suspicion by wearing the fancy garb into the house. Best not to tell her about anything other than the mall and being trapped in a storm. It wasn’t too unlikely, after all. 

Nick rang the doorbell.  
There was a noise inside, the shuffling of feet. 

My father opened the door.


End file.
